On Top Of Our Hill
by Infrared-Ultraviolet
Summary: Madge Undersee has always been in love with Peeta Mellark, but he has eyes only for her best friend, Katniss Everdeen. When Katniss runs off with Gale Hawthorne, however, Madge might finally have a chance. Post-Mockingjay AU, Madge doesn't die.


_My name is Madge Undersee. I am nineteen years old. My home is District 12. It burned to the ground. I escaped. I am in love with Peeta Mellark. He is in love with Katniss Everdeen, my closest friend, and one of the most famous people in Panem. Sometimes I wish I were her…_

District 6 has never quite come to feel like home. I don't think it ever will…not after I watched the big, beautiful house I grew up in go up in flames, along with the only district I had ever known. Still, I've found a new life and a new start in District 6, and my father, Katniss, and Peeta are safe. For that I'm unendingly grateful.

I wish I could forget the bombing, but after two years I can still see it vividly in my mind. I was watching the Quarter Quell when it started, biting anxiously at my white manicured fingernails. Watching your best friend and the only boy you've ever loved constantly weave in and out of life-threatening situations is enough to make anyone paranoid. I screamed aloud when lightning struck the tall tree and Katniss's arrow went flying into the forcefield. Everything seemed to fall into destructive chaos, and then, without any sort of warning, the TV flicked off in a burst of light.

I was completely confused, but my father caught on to what was happening right away. His eyes widened like a scared rabbit's, and he seized my arm. "Madge, we need to get out of here _fast_," he hissed. "Pack your things."

I didn't need to be told twice. I rushed out of the living room and trudged up the spiraling staircase. Luckily, I always kept a suitcase in my bedroom closet. I tore it open and began tossing in anything and everything that might be important, sentimental or otherwise. Clothes, books, my journals, a couple of DVDs, my toothbrush and toothpaste, a few toys from my childhood…anything I could stuff in there. Every nerve and muscle in me were tensed up, fully aware of the urgency of the situation. I didn't know exactly what my father had been so scared of, but seeing such absolute terror in the eyes of the mayor was enough to tell me that something was seriously wrong.

It all became clear when I started to hear the explosions: the high-pitched whistle of bombs being dropped followed by a loud _boom_. It was a ways off, but I knew it wouldn't take long for the bomber planes to get to where our house was. I zipped up my suitcase and bolted out into the hallway.

"Dad! DAD!" I screeched. I ran down the hall to find him in my mother's room. She was lying in her elegant canopy bed, an ice pack resting on the top of her head. My father was sitting in a chair by her bedside table, her hand clasped tightly in his.

"Come _on_, Arabella!" he said urgently. "They're bombing the district, and we have to get out now!"

"I can't, Clarence," she said, screwing up her face in pain. "I'm too weak."

"Please…I'll help you up!" my father begged. "You _have_ to get up!"

"The end was coming soon for me anyway," she murmured. "If you love me…just go on without me. Save yourselves."

"I'm not leaving you," he said forcefully.

"Do it for Madge," she said.

My father glances at me, standing in the doorway, and then back at my mother. That seems to convince him.

"I love you," he said, his voice cracking.

"I love you too," she replied.

He leans down and kisses her tenderly, holding her face in his hands. Another explosion, this one much closer, halts the kiss. He springs to his feet and hustles out the bedroom door, casting one last heartbroken glance behind him. I can see from the empty look in his eyes that he wanted to kiss my mother longer, that that hardly sufficed for a final goodbye. I didn't even get to say goodbye at all. But I know that we don't have any time to spare.

One of the benefits of being the mayor's daughter was that my family was one of the only ones in District 12 that owned a car. We hardly ever used it, mainly because the district was small enough to get places by walking, and my father didn't like showing off. All I knew as I was leaving my house for the last time is that I was very glad we had it. It was the fastest, albeit also risky, way to escape from the district.

We didn't stop to save anyone on the way out. Thinking back on it, I wish we had. Caught up in the fire of the moment, we only wanted to save ourselves. Maybe he didn't stop out of his love for my mother, too. She had told him to save me, and he would never forgive himself if he let me die. Even pausing for just a minute to let a civilian into the backseat was enough time for a bomb to be dropped right in the middle of the road.

Neither of us knew about Gale leading the patrol of escapees out into the forest. We were driving at top speed in the other direction. It's a wonder that the fire around us didn't consume our car, but I suppose sometimes I forget how fast those things can go. At 70 miles an hour, we arrived at the edge of the town within minutes. After that, the road ended (there aren't any roads going in between the districts, only the tracks for the high-speed trains) and we had to get out and travel on foot. After a long, hard trek, we were out of the range of the bombers, and we rested at the edge of the woods until it was all over.

My father knew there was no point going back and probing the wreckage for survivors. There were dangerous Capitol hovercrafts still hanging around, and they would certainly shoot down the last of the citizens. Besides, we couldn't stay any longer. There was nothing left for us there, and my father was in terrible danger. After all, it was _his_ district who had produced the Girl on Fire, the rebel who had started it all, and _his_ daughter who had given her the signature mockingjay pin. If they knew my father was alive, they would stop at nothing to capture him.

We fled. For weeks we trekked through miles of wilderness, always hoping that the next day would be the day we came across some sort of civilization. We practically starved, having not brought much food from the house. Katniss had taught me how to hunt small game with a bow and arrow and how to build a fire, but I was no expert. I lost track of how many arrows went to waste being shot at a squirrel who was just a little too quick.

There's only a couple of times in my life when I've felt the rush of euphoria I had when I saw the buildings of a town in District 6. Starving and dirty, we came in begging for help. We said that we were refugees from 12, which was true enough, but my father bought himself a disguise as soon as he came into town so no one would recognize him. He came up with fake names for us too; He was James Burke, and I was his daughter Elsa Burke.

He got a job, and I got a job, and soon enough we were able to buy a house. It was nice, but small and cramped compared to the one we used to have. And I never could really get it through my head that I actually _lived_ there. It always felt like just a strange place I was staying in for a little while, and soon enough I would be returning back to our home in District 12.

Having to stay cooped up in that tiny town in District 6 while a revolution was unfolding was the singlemost frustrating thing that had ever happened to me. The second I heard the refugees from 12 had gone to District 13 to trains as soldiers for the oncoming war, I begged my father to take us there and let me join them. He would have none of it. He wasn't about to lose me so soon after he lost my mother, and he was bending over backwards to keep me out of the way of any danger. I guess it was only natural that a bombing would turn him into an overprotective father, but I hated him for it. It became all the more agonizing when I found out the Capitol had captured Peeta and were torturing him.

Every hour I wasn't at work I sat glued to the television, desperate for any news on him. I saw commercial after commercial with Katniss, my best friend and the bearer of my mockingjay pin, spewing out revolutionary propaganda and becoming more and more famous. I won't pretend I didn't feel jealous. I was happy for Katniss that the country loved her so much, but it only made the fierce desire to take part in the revolution stronger.

You would think that the entire nation of Panem worshipping Katniss and doting over her and the love of my life as a couple would push me to hate her. Quite the contrary. I couldn't bring myself to hate the only real friend I'd ever had, no matter how envious of her I could be. After all, it wasn't _her_ fault the rebels had chosen her to be their mascot. And if she was bringing the whole country together to overthrow our oppressors, how could I complain? And it wasn't her fault Peeta was madly in love with her and not me, was it?

I didn't want to be in love with Peeta Mellark. Not for one solitary second did I think it would be in anyone's best interest for me to fall in love with him. I'd had dozens of crushes in my life, secret or not, but all of them had faded away as quickly as they came. Never had I met someone I could honestly say I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Nor did I really want to…I'd always been strongly independent, even though I was quiet. I didn't like the idea of marrying a man and having him look after me for the rest of my life. I wanted to pave my own way in the world.

The truth about Peeta is that before the 74th hunger games, he didn't even register in my mind. We had a few classes together at school, and I always thought he was attractive, but our paths never really crossed. I kept to myself, and I didn't pay much attention to what the other kids were doing.

I think it started with the interviews. Peeta had this charming, funny demeanor…which in all likelihood was probably just a mask he was wearing to win the Capitol over. But I didn't believe that. Everything he said sounded so sincere. I may not be very extroverted, but I'm good at picking up social cues. I can tell when someone is just acting, trying to fake their way down the road to receiving some goal. Peeta wasn't doing that. He was showing the audience all the best qualities he had to offer while still being humble about it. He didn't say anything bad about any of the other tributes, and he never tried to hide the fact that he was just a simple baker's son. A simple baker's son with a heart of gold and not a clue how to survive life-and-death situations.

Something in Peeta's eyes told me he wasn't just bluffing when he said he had always liked Katniss. He looked like he was on the verge of breaking when he said it, like his whole world was about to shatter as soon as he let it sink in that his crush would most likely be dead in the next couple of weeks and there was nothing he could do to save her. I don't know how much he was exaggerating his little crush to butter up potential sponsors, but confessing your feelings for someone in front of the entire country is something I would never have had the courage to do.

So here he was, this lighthearted, innocent boy whose greatest skill was baking bread, about to be thrown into a death trap with 23 other kids. Including the girl he liked, who also happened to be my best friend. I had no idea what to feel.

It started with the fluttering in my stomach and the hotness in my cheeks, and grew into a feeling washing over me like a thick, warm liquid creeping from the top of my head all the way down my spine to the ends of my toenails. The usual excitement of liking a new boy was replaced by sharp annoyance. This was the _last_ person I should be getting a crush on, especially after the Games started! Not only was there a very high possibility that I'd see his face projected in the sky the next time I turned on the TV, but I should also be far more concerned with whether my only friend was going to make it out of this alive than some stupid crush on a boy who I barely knew. Besides, did Peeta Mellark even know I existed? I doubted it.

I hated that I dwelled on him so much. I hated that every they showed the fallen tributes, I would let out a long breath when I saw he was not among them. I hated how whenever the commentators would say something about District 12, my mind would be desperate for news on Peeta, not Katniss. I hated how someone who I had given a symbol of our friendship to as her district token became second-best in my mind to a weak bread baker whose kindness was probably just an act. An extremely believable, heart-winning act.

I was relieved beyond belief when Katniss and Peeta teamed up. I didn't allow myself to even begin to feel jealous of their supposed romance. Instead, I saw the alliance as the thing I wanted the very most: For both of them to survive and come home safe. I didn't have to root for just one or the other anymore.

Maybe Peeta's devotion to Katniss is part of what attracted me to him in the first place. His risking his life against the Careers to help her get away. His insisting she didn't go to the feast to get _his_ medicine because it was too dangerous. His making her use some of the medicine on herself even though his wounds were unquestionably more severe. His willing to commit _suicide_ if it meant he didn't have to be without her. His trying to work up the courage to talk to her for 11 years. Well, maybe that whole story was fabricated, but if it was he certainly had a knack for romance.

When I heard that Katniss and Peeta had won the Games, nothing else mattered. I didn't care that they would probably have to get married to convince Panem that their love was genuine. I just desperately wanted to see both of them again.

At least I got to know Peeta after the Games. Sometimes I would run into him in the Victor's Village on the way to Katniss's house, and we would exchange a few words. "Hi, Madge," he would say. "How are you?" "I'm fine, how are you?" I'd reply. "Good," he'd always say. Sometimes it ended at that, but other times we'd make small talk about school or the Seam or my father being the mayor. Not too impressive for conversations I was having with someone whose heart I wanted to win, but I guess I'd accepted by then that Peeta would never be mine. Still, my attempt at at least being friends with him wasn't going as well as I'd expected. I'd been shy and reserved all my life, and I couldn't even change that for Peeta.

I suppose the odds have never been in my favor in regards to Quarter Quells. One of them killed my aunt. I never met her, but I have a feeling we would've been close if she had lived. The next one took away my only friend, who I had recently become closer with, as well as the boy I had fallen in love with. To make matters worse, I didn't even get to say goodbye. Both of them were simply whisked away from me before I could do anything.

False hope is a terrible thing. When I heard that a hovercraft had broken into the arena and rescued some of the tributes, I was pleading for Peeta to be one of them. When I found out he wasn't, the relief I should've felt that Katniss was safe was far overshadowed by the dread that Peeta had been taken to the Capitol. My father had told me many times what they were capable of.

I sunk into a state of depression after that. Every day I dragged myself to my job at a nearby factory, where I would spend all day unloading crates from a truck and taking them into the building. I did it in a zombie state, moving mechanically with expressionless eyes. I became worse after Peeta got hijacked and essentially lost his mind, even though District 13 had managed to rescue him. The Capitol had destroyed him.

I spent my non-working hours in front of the TV. All I wanted was news of the war, good or bad. My fury at not being allowed to fight for the rebels had dulled into a mere lump of bitterness. Maybe it was because I accepted that I could hardly have made a difference anyway. I had grown up wealthy, never being short on food and living a soft life. I hardly exercised and I didn't even leave my house that much to explore the wilderness. I would have been a terrible soldier.

Months passed. The war didn't go on forever. I'm not sure when it officially ended, but I'm pretty sure it was when Katniss shot the president of District 13 right through the chest. Katniss went back to what was left of District 12 and married Gale Hawthorne. I wasn't too surprised. I always had a feeling those two would end up together, and many times I doubted the authenticity of her and Peeta's relationship.

You can't imagine how surprised I was when Peeta showed up in District 6. He came because he wanted to get a fresh start. Despite wanting to escape anything that had to do with District 12 and all the painful memories associated with it, he was delighted to see a familiar face so far from home. We quickly became good friends.

It took all the traumatic things that had happened lately for me to finally shake off my shyness around Peeta. I figured that with the country having _just come out of a war,_ it was stupid for me to feel frightened of something as small as talking to an attractive boy.

Now, I make my way through a field at the edge of the town. The hills beyond sweep up and down like the folds in a blanket, covered in lush summer forest. It's odd that the Capitol chose to leave the hills alone, and not tear the forest down to make room for more civilization. I guess they figured with such a wide expanse of plains around to build towns on, it was an unnecessary bother to try to build them on a sloped surface.

But I'm glad they've left the hills alone. They're a great place to come and relax, and the forest reminds me of District 12 and Katniss. It is here that I often find Peeta brooding, gazing out at the horizon with a pained look in his blue eyes.

I break into a run, my white skirt flapping in the breeze and my feet skimming over the prickly yellow grass. I dash up the side of the hill, my heart fluttering at the notion of seeing Peeta soon.

I know just where he likes to sit. He found a spot at the top of the hill where there's a gap in the trees. From here, we can see the entire town over the treetops as well as the sprawling fields and flat horizon beyond.

Birdsong echoes through the woods. I hear the high-pitched call of a mockingjay, and my mind flickers back to the pin I gave to Katniss what seems like lifetimes ago. I step over a clump of ferns and skid around a wide maple tree. Sunbeams are shining down on the grass, creating little dapples of light. I walk past the old oak tree that tells me I have arrived at the clearing…our clearing.

I smile as I spot Peeta sitting in his usual spot, staring off into the distance. I slip back into the cover of the trees and creep over to where he's sitting. Grinning, I creep up behind him and tightly seize his shoulders. He lets out a yelp and spins around to face me.

"Dammit Madge! Don't do that!" he says, but he's laughing. "Someday you're going to give me a heart attack."

"I'm sorry," I say, giggling. "You just get so wrapped up in your thoughts." I sit down beside him and smooth my skirt out over my knees. I turn to face him and brush my hair out of my face. "What's on your mind this time?"

He hesitates before answering. "My new job," he answers. I have a feeling he isn't being entirely honest. He's probably thinking about something more dramatic than that. I can tell he doesn't want to talk about it though, so I don't call him out on it.

"The one at the bakery," I say. "I'm guessing you like that one. It's like what you did back home, isn't it?"

He shrugs. "Kind of. Back in District 12, most of what I did was just helping out. Here, I have bigger responsibilities. I have to go out and buy wheat and flour, and I'm responsible for watching the ovens and making sure things don't get burned."

"Do you still get to ice the cakes?" I ask with a knowing smile.

"Yeah, I do." He looks genuinely delighted. "My boss says I've got artistic talent, and he doesn't want to see it go to waste. I don't know how much talent I really have, but I sure love being able to paint with the frosting like I used to."

"I'm sure not one bit gets into your mouth," I tease him.

He laughs and elbows me in the side. "Oh, I would _never_ let that happen!"

"I'll bet it's better than my job, anyhow," I mutter, rolling my eyes. "I'm bored out of my mind. Every day after work I try to search for a better one."

"I'm sure you'll find a new one," he assures me. "Maybe you could work in one of the trains or something."

"Oh, that would be fun!" Enthusiasm bubbles up inside of me. Peeta always thinks of the best ideas. "Zooming through the country all day long and seeing all the districts and the countryside…yeah, I'd like that. Especially since the trains aren't owned by the Capitol anymore."

"I know you too well," Peeta says, grinning.

"You really do," I agree, and it's true. In the short few months Peeta's been in District 6, I've opened up to him more than I've opened up to most people. Ironic, since not so long ago I thought that he was the last person I'd have the courage to be myself around.

"Yeah, it's weird," he goes on. "We haven't even known each other very well for that long, but I feel like you're one of my best friends. Everyone back home…I feel like they don't trust me. Haymitch, Effie, Katniss, my friends from District 12 who survived the bombing…all of them seem wary of me, like they expect me to snap at any moment and turn into some Capitol-controlled monster. You just accept me as I am."

"I know you'd never hurt anyone, no matter what the Capitol does to you." I meet his blue gaze evenly. "They can change your brain and your memories, but they can't change _you_."

"I hope that's true," he sighs. "Apparently Katniss didn't think so, though. That's why she chose Gale over me, wasn't it?" I wince. There's always a note of bitterness in his voice when he talks about Katniss. I'm not sure it's because there's still a trace of the hatred for her the Capitol forced into his brain, or because he's angry with her for rejecting him.

I suspect it's mostly the latter. Peeta has long since recovered from his hijacking, and after he recovered he grew to care for Katniss again. It was a major blow when she ran off with Gale so soon after Peeta's feelings for her returned. He felt like he had lost everything: His home, his family, and the love of his life. He showed up in 6 with a damaged mind and a broken heart, hoping the new place would heal them both. I had done the best I could.

"Peeta," I say gently. "You know that's not the reason Katniss ended up with Gale. She cared for you, but she and Gale were so much closer. Your crush on her was romantic and all, but it couldn't compete with years of friendship and hunting together to survive. I always suspected they would end up together…even after you came into the picture."

His face falls. I hate to do this to him. I know it hurts to hear me say that he never really stood a chance. But I have to be honest with him. I don't want to give him false hope that Katniss will come running back to him, when I can tell there's no one for her but Gale. He needs to move on from Katniss and realize that he would be so much happier if he didn't spend so much time wanting what he can't have. Besides…there's someone he _can_ have sitting right next to him.

"Do you think it was all an act?" he asks quietly. "The romance from her side?"

"No," I say honestly. "Not all of it. She definitely cared for you, although not as much as you cared for her. Some of the times when she kissed you in the arena… it looked like she meant it. She cared for you as a friend, if nothing else. And I think she still does."

"It wasn't enough though, was it?" he muttered. "She's never going to love me. Whatever I do, she's not coming back."

"She's not," I tell him, trying to keep my voice from sounding too harsh. "You need to let her go, Peeta. I hate to see you suffer so much over something that can't be changed. _Please_ let her go. Move on with your life!"

He smiles and shakes his head. "It's hard to get over a girl like her. And to think, if I'd just—"

I reach over and put my hand on his arm. "There's nothing you could've done," I tell him. "Sometimes you can't make someone fall in love with you, no matter how hard you try. Sometimes you can love someone with all your heart, but…they just never love you back. It hurts, but what can you do?"

He turns and looks at me curiously. "You talk like it's happened to you," he muses.

"It has." I look away, hoping I'm not blushing. I wonder if I should have lied. I've comforted him about Katniss many times, but this is the closest I've ever come to confessing my own feelings for him. What would be the point? I know he won't return them, not so long as his heart aches for the Girl on Fire. But now I've said too much…

"Who?" he prods. His eyes shine with sudden realization. "Oh! It was Gale, wasn't it?"

"Ew, no!" I squirm at the mere idea. "Why did everyone think I had a thing for him?" I harbor a dislike for Gale that's stronger than Peeta might think. Perhaps it's because he always spent so much time with Katniss and hogged her attention, and I knew she considered him a much closer friend than me. Perhaps it's because of that arrogant glint in his eyes every time he dragged an especially big piece of game into town. But I think the main reason is something that happened when I was 13 and he was 15.

"You _did_ bring him that medicine after he got whipped," Peeta reminds me.

Suddenly I feel so annoyed that I want to slap him. "He's Katniss's best friend!" I snap. "That's the only reason I wanted to help. Just because I don't want so see someone suffer doesn't mean I'm in love with them! I honestly can't stand Gale."

Peeta raises his arms in surrender. "Okay, okay, no need to get all defensive! I had no idea you disliked him so much. How come?"

"We used to date," I offer. "He was always a ladies' man, and I was just as smitten as every other girl when I was in 7th grade. Apparently he could tell I had my eye on him and that I was too shy to make a move myself, so he asked me out to a dance."

"Did you become a couple after that?" he asks.

"For a while," I admit. "He didn't exactly make a secret of how much he hated the Capitol. I guess he started kind of associating me with it, since my father was the mayor of 12 and I was one of the wealthier kids in the district. It started out as subtle little digs, like he was trying to make me guilty for being fortunate." I clench my teeth. "It just made me so mad…I couldn't help it if I grew up richer than the other kids, and my father ran the district as best he could! After I started standing up for myself, we would get into fights. They—they started out as just annoyed quarrels, but pretty soon they grew into full-out yelling matches."

I sigh. "Things finally ended between us when he told me he'd rather eat shit than be with Capitol trash like me. I can't remember how I responded…I'm pretty sure I just cursed him out. I hated him, but it broke my heart."

"Oh wow." Peeta's voice is thick with sympathy. "I'm really sorry, Madge. That sounds awful."

"He's been a little bitter to me ever since," I go on. "Not outright mean, but aiming little barbs at me and making them go just deep enough that it hurts. It pissed me off so much that I gradually went from disliking him to outright detesting him."

"I'm not too fond of him, either," Peeta says. We both laugh.

There's a short silence. We both gaze at the town below us, the lights flickering on as the sun begins to sink below the flat horizon. There are a few long, skinny clouds in the sky, beginning to turn peach and golden as the fading sunlight hits them.

"Do you ever get homesick?" Peeta asks abruptly.

The question catches me off-guard, and I feel a stab of longing. "All the time. I always try to forget, but it never works. "

"Me too," he says. "The bakery here doesn't smell exactly the way my father's did. And I miss the Hob."

"The Hob?" I raise my eyebrows. "I didn't think you ever went in there."

"I would sometimes, when my father sent me in to trade bread for meat," he replies. "It was dingy, but everyone in there was always so friendly, and they always had a fire going in the winter."

"But not in you house?" I ask.

He waves his hand dismissively. "No, no, my family had a fireplace. We mostly used it for baking, though. Something about the Hob was just so…cozy."

I shrug. "I only went in there a couple of times, but I'll take your word for it."

Peeta turns and looks at me. "The fire was Katniss's fault…real or not real?" Another question that catches me off-guard. I stare at the ground, unsure of how to answer.

"Real," I say reluctantly, familiar with Peeta's strategy to separate his real memories from the false ones the Capitol gave him. "She shot an arrow into a weak spot in the forcefield in the arena, and destroyed it. The Capitol took it as an act of rebellion, and they punished her district for it. She never wanted anyone to get hurt," I add quickly. "I mean, maybe she accepted people _would_ get hurt if she stood up to the Capitol, but it was a sacrifice she had to make. And if she hadn't…where would we be now?"

Peeta's expression softens. He realizes I have a point. "We'd still have the hunger games."

I nod. "Yeah, and nothing would ever change. The Capitol would still stuff themselves with as much gourmet food as they could while the districts starved to death. Worse, they would tighten their control so no one could ever put a foot out of line like Katniss did."

"I don't know if that makes it okay," Peeta says. "Sacrificing all those people for one act of defiance. But maybe you're right. The rebellion was the most important thing, and it never could have been successful without a few people losing their lives. It just…it just doesn't seem fair."

"War is never fair," I say. "You lost your family in the bombing, and I lost my mother. All of us suffered so much, but I think we'll find it was worth it in the end."

Peeta still looks a little skeptical. "I hope so. I don't want the Games to ever come back. Ever."

"And they won't," I assure him. "The new government isn't going to forget so quickly having to watch kids from their own districts be sent off to their deaths. I don't know how well this new administration is going to work out, but I do know no one in their right mind would bring those sick death traps back. Not even the Capitol should be punished by having their children fight to the death!"

"I'm glad they never went through with that Capitol hunger games they were planning," Peeta murmurs. "Everyone thought they deserved to suffer for what they did to us, but…the Capitol's kids are just as innocent as ours! If we throw them into the arena, we're no better than they were."

I nod in agreement. "I know. No kid should be punished for what their parents did."

Peeta's eyes grow suddenly sad. "Katniss voted yes on the Capitol hunger games, though. She wanted vengeance for her sister's death."

I feel my heart sink. It seems like our conversations always circle back to Katniss. Just when I think I've successfully changed the subject, her name pops up again, inevitably accompanied with some ramble about how much he misses her. Hopefully he doesn't want to pine over her this time…he just wants to talk about her.

"I guess I can understand that," I say. I know how much Prim meant to Katniss, and I was horrified when I heard about her death. "But killing all those Capitol kids wouldn't bring Prim back."

"I know," he says. "I tried to tell her that, but I don't think she listens to anything I say anymore."

"Of course she does," I assure him. "That's not the reason she said yes. She was just bitter over Prim dying. She probably wasn't completely thinking straight."

His eyes glint with longing. "She looked beautiful that day, with her hair pulled back in that long braid. She was so determined, too."

And here comes the ramble.

"You talk like she's the only girl in the world," I tell him gently.

He looks a little offended. "To me, she is!"

"But why?" I ask. "She doesn't have to be. Not anymore. You don't have to earn sponsors or fuel a revolution by acting like you're madly in love with her. Now that the country has taken its eye off of you, you can do what you like."

Peeta opens his mouth to respond, but I cut him off. "I'm not saying you didn't love her, because I know you did. I think maybe you exaggerated it a bit for the sake of winning the Capitol over, but the feelings were certainly there. I'm just saying that _so_ many other girls right here who would love to have you, so why waste your time longing for someone you can't have?"

Peeta lets out a disgusted snort. "Nobody wants me," he said bitterly. "Not since the Capitol messed me up. I don't even know where you got that idea."

"Don't put yourself down like that!" I tell him sharply. "I'll bet more girls want you than you could ever imagine. For one thing, you're _very_ attractive. Even back in 12, I thought you were one of the hottest boys in our class. For another, I'll bet that romance you pulled off with Katniss had half the girls in the country swooning. You're a celebrity, Peeta! Practically everyone in Panem knows who you are. You're like the next Finnick Odair."

"I'm hardly as charming as Finnick," Peeta mutters.

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that!" I smile at him. "You're far more appealing than you give yourself credit for. Honestly, Peeta!"

He looks confused, and I want to burst out laughing at how clueless he is. Has he really not guessed yet how I feel about him? I've never wanted him to know before, but all of a sudden I just feel so jealous of Katniss, and I want to stop hearing about her.

"How do you even know all of this?" he asks. "Have you met any of these girls who are apparently crazy about me?"

"You could say that." My heart starts to race. Do I really want to tell him I love him? There's no way he could reciprocate while Katniss is still plaguing his thoughts. But there's no going back now…

And is there any better time? Here in the almost-dark, with the last light of day shining off of his golden hair. I glance behind me into the woods, and I can see fireflies beginning to flit about around the tree trunks. The air is a little cool, but not cold. The clouds on the horizon are glowing red and gold. The crickets are chirping, and a mild breeze ruffles the leaves of the trees. Our little clearing seems almost magical. I half expect to see the glowing fairies from the legends fly out of the trees, spinning and twirling around like tiny dancers.

Peeta perks up quickly. He probes me inquisitively with his eyes, reflecting the dark blue of the twilight sky. "Who?"

The corners of my mouth twist up in a mischievous grin. "You want me to tell you?"

"No, I want you to keep it a secret so I can wonder for the rest of my life," he says sarcastically. I laugh and shake my head.

"You might be surprised," I say softly. "Or not. She's been dropping hints for months."

"Really? I haven't noticed anything," Peeta says nonchalantly.

I roll my eyes. "You should've been paying closer attention, then."

"Really, who is it?" Peeta prompts.

"Oh…I don't know if I should tell you," I chirp in a sing-song voice, taunting him.

He glares at me. "Come on! Who likes me?"

"A person," I tease.

"Madge, stop it!" he says, annoyed. "I'm starting to think you're making the whole thing—"

In that moment, I decide none of my doubts matter. I can't keep going like this, watching the boy I love love someone else, someone who will never love him back. I've known all along that I can't keep my feelings for Peeta bottled up forever, and in that moment they all rise up in a burning flood and spill out of me, like a pot boiling over. I don't care what happens next. All that matters is that he knows.

Sagacity gone, I lean toward Peeta and grab hold of his face in one quick motion. I yank him to me and press my lips against his. I can tell he's shocked from the way he stiffens up, but he doesn't push me away. He relaxes after a few seconds, letting me kiss him but not kissing back. He smells like cookie dough, which makes it all the more delicious. Both my hands are tightly clutching the grass on either side of me as a mixture of panic and excitement rages through my chest.

I slowly let go of the grass with one hand and wrap my arm around Peeta's waist, pulling him closer to me. He still doesn't struggle, but I start to think maybe I've gone too far. I kiss him for a little longer before pulling away, the embarrassment at what I've just done finally catching up to me. I look away, my cheeks hot. Thoughts are racing through my head faster than one of the high-speed trains can go.

"…up," he finishes weakly.

"Hardly." I make a feeble attempt at a joke, still not daring to look at him. I'm too afraid of what look I might see in his eyes.

He fumbles around for a bit, trying to find the words to say. I can't help but smile. His disbelief is adorable.

"Wow, I…I had no idea you felt that way about me, Madge," he says finally.

"Stupid boy," I tease.

"I really didn't," he insists. "But…how long have you…you know…"

"A long time," I reply. "I never really noticed you until you got reaped, but after your first interview at the Capitol…I was a goner. While everyone else was falling in love with the star-crossed couple from District 12, I was only falling in love with one half of it."

Peeta shakes his head in awe. "And to think…all those times when we would talk in the Victor's Village and you wouldn't meet my eye, I thought it was just because you were shy."

"I was shy around _you_," I correct him. "Until you came here, anyway. After that, I needed a friend so much that I forgot I was supposed to be terrified of you."

Peeta laughs. "Oh yeah, I am _so_ scary!" He waves his hands around and makes ghost noises. I let out a cry of mock terror as he leans in toward me. His eyes start to close, and for one hopeful second I think he's going to kiss me, but then he leans back again and gives me a serious look.

"I needed a friend too," he says. "And I'm so glad it was you who happened to be here. Someone who was there all along, but who I've never really known anything about until now."

"Well, now you know everything," I say softly. I tentatively reach for his hand, but he pulls it away. I shake off my feelings of disappointment. What did I expect? This love…it was always me. Never him, always me.

He sees my shoulders slump, and gives me a reassuring smile. "I don't like you that way, but I could," he says. "I like the way I feel when I'm around you. It's like…I can be a way I can't be with anyone else. It seems like…you always bring out the best in me."

"You…could like me?" My eyes widen and I sit up straight. Hope trickles through me like warm honey. I always thought the way I felt was a lost cause, but maybe not. We do have a lot in common after all, and I'm pretty easy to talk to. Besides, he seemed to enjoy my kiss. Did he want another, just for a second?

"Yeah, I think I could," he says, sounding like he means it. "You're really pretty, for one thing. I don't know if I've ever told you that before, but it's true. I can be myself around you, too. I never feel like I have to put on an act to please you."

"Of course you don't," I agree. "And…ah…thanks." I look down, not wanting him to see the blood rushing to my cheeks at the unexpected compliment.

"Can I ask you one favor, though?" he asks. I nod eagerly. I would do anything for him, and I think he knows it.

"Give me some time to get over Katniss," he says, "I don't know how long it's going to take, but I used to think my heart would never heal. Now I'm not so sure."

"I know," I tell him. "I'll give you all the time you need. And if you never feel the same way about me, that's okay too. I'll always be your friend, either way."

"Thanks for understanding." Unexpectedly, Peeta reaches over and gives me a tight hug. Every muscle in my body relaxes, and I feel a warm contentment wash over me. I pull him as close to me as I can, resting my head on his shoulder. His arms are strong and warm, and I feel like I'm exactly where I belong. It could be months before I get another kiss from him, even years, but for now this is enough.

As we pull apart, there's a long silence. I smile to myself as I draw patterns in the grass with my finger, my whole body quivering with hope. If Peeta could love me…

He turns and looks at me. "Oh, and Madge?"

"Yeah?"

He smiles. "I think I'll be getting over Katniss real soon."


End file.
